Consider it a favor repaid.

Elodie didn’t think she was close enough to Joseph to linger any longer. Once they’d cleared things up, she nodded politely and walked away.

Joseph watched her retreating figure for a long moment, her decisiveness leaving him with a complicated feeling as he glanced over at Sylvie.

Warwick Mansion was enormous.

With time to spare, Elodie wandered through the halls, but a chill crept into her hands and feet, leaving her feeling unwell.

She made her way to the restroom.

Standing at the sink, she pressed a hand to her lower abdomen, her brow furrowing as she tried to ease the ache. Over the past weeks, she’d grown more accustomed to enduring this pain. Hiding away for half an hour or so usually allowed her to recover enough to face the world again.

Bracing herself against the countertop, she took several deep, steady breaths.

Only when her phone buzzed with a message from Alexander-asking where she was-did she finally turn to leave.

But the pain had sapped her strength, and as soon as she moved, a wave of dizziness washed over her. Before she could stumble, a firm, warm hand steadied her, the heat of his palm practically searing through her skin.

She looked up.

Jarrod’s dark gaze met hers, steady and unreadable.

He studied her, concern knitting his brow. “Period pains? Not feeling well?”

Elodie didn’t have a chance to answer.

Down the hallway, Naylor passed by, phone to his ear. Seeing the two of them alone together, he paused mid-sentence. His eyes flicked between Elodie and Jarrod, then, with a curt nod to Jarrod, he strode away, continuing his call.

Elodie couldn’t care less what Naylor thought.

As for Jarrod… For three years, he’d known her cycle better than anyone-her period, ovulation, every detail. It wasn’t surprising he’d remember; he’d always been meticulous.

Elodie forced herself to rally, slipping her arm from his hand with practiced composure. “Thank you,” she said coolly, offering no further explanation.

Standing straight, she glanced up at him again. “The waiting period ends tomorrow. Meet then?”

She meant the cooling-off period before the divorce was finalized.

Jarrod slid one hand into his pocket, his expression calm and remote. “If I’m free, I’ll let you know.”

Elodie frowned slightly, but on second thought, Jarrod was probably even more eager than she was to get this over with.

She considered, then said evenly, “Please keep it in mind. I’ll remind you if necessary.”

She moved to leave.

Jarrod glanced at the purse she’d left by the sink and called after her, unhurried, “You forgot your bag.”

Elodie turned back-he was already holding it out to her.

Just then, not far down the hall, Sylvie and Maurice rounded the corner, catching

sight of Jarrod handing Elodie her bag.

Sylvie’s brow creased ever so slightly.

Maurice hesitated, then muttered under his breath, “You don’t think… Elodie’s trying to get back together with him, do you?”

It wasn’t impossible.

Elodie and Jarrod reconnecting in private? It made sense, considering how much Elodie once cared about him.

After all that drama, maybe she was looking for a way to patch things up.

Sylvie frowned, but quickly schooled her features. “Maybe if she spent half as much time improving herself as she does chasing after men, Mr. Dale wouldn’t have lost interest.”

With that, she dismissed the scene entirely and walked away.

Maurice bit his lip his mouth always worked faster than his brain.

Across the way, Naylor had just finished his call.

From his vantage point, he’d seen Sylvie and Maurice approach and then walk away, their expressions dark. So Sylvie had witnessed Elodie and Jarrod together, too?

Really, what woman would be happy to see another woman throwing herself at her boyfriend?

Naylor scowled, finding the whole thing absurd.

On her way back toward the main house, Elodie had to pass through a long corridor.

Just as she was about to step through an archway, she nearly collided with Naylor.

She had no intention of acknowledging him.

But Naylor, noticing he was still being ignored, stopped abruptly.

His gaze turned sharp, laced with sarcasm. “Ms. Thorne, must be quite an ego boost juggling so many men at once.”

Elodie hadn’t expected him to come at her so directly. Unlike before, he was making his dislike perfectly clear.

Thinking back to what he’d just witnessed, Naylor smirked. “Aren’t you worried you’ll trip up someday? Maybe when someone else starts fighting for your man, you’ll finally know how it feels.”

Elodie finally stopped, her eyes icy and indifferent. “Do you really think you’re some kind of moral crusader?”

Naylor’s expression tightened.

Elodie, usually so composed, didn’t bother sparing him an ounce of patience. “Did no one ever teach you that pestering someone who doesn’t want to talk to you is rude and pathetic? Or are you just that desperate for attention?”

Naylor had always thought of Elodie as mild and reserved, so her cutting words left him momentarily stunned.

He hadn’t expected her to be so blunt.

“Mr. Whitaker, stop pretending you’re the hero here. This isn’t justice—it’s just stupidity.” Her voice was calm, but her words cut deep.

Without waiting for a response, she walked away, leaving him speechless.

It took Naylor several seconds to process what had just happened.

Only belatedly did he realize-

She’d just told him off. To his face. How could she be so bold?

His face darkened as he turned, only to meet Elias’s composed gaze a few steps behind—apparently, he’d been standing there for some time, simply observing.

Naylor blinked, then muttered irritably, “You saw that, right? Women like her- unbelievable.”